


REM Sleep

by Shiny_n_new



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bonding with the team, Gen, Hulk Smash, Loneliness, split personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiny_n_new/pseuds/Shiny_n_new
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bruce woke up alone, and one time he woke up with the whole team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	REM Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt ](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/4305.html?thread=3341265#t3341265)at AvengerKink.

**1:**  
“Anywhere you wanna go,” Tony had said, teeth movie-star white and sunglasses glinting in the light. He looked perfect, like he stepped out of the pages of Forbes and GQ and a comic book all at once. Bruce hadn’t even been able to summon the old jealousy anymore, because Tony Stark had somehow, against all logic, turned out to be a really decent guy.

Funny, how people could surprise him when he thought the world was all out of surprises.

Anywhere he wanted to go turned out to be Toronto, and Tony had driven him up to the border without complaint.

“I wasn’t kidding about my lab being open to you, you know,” was all Tony said as Bruce pulled his duffel bag out of the trunk.

“I know,” Bruce responded, flashing Tony a small, almost-sincere smile. “I just…can’t be here for a while.”

“I get it.” Tony nodded, then reached out suddenly and tapped Bruce on the nose with his sunglasses. “Don’t stray too far, though, Kermit. We’ll need you again.”

To someone else, it might have sounded callous. But Bruce was intimately familiar with what it was like to not be needed and especially not to be wanted. So he offered Tony a lopsided grin and said, “Shouldn’t be too hard to find me. Just go straight once you see the smashed buildings and people screaming.”

“Take care of yourself, Banner.”

A few minutes later, Bruce slipped across the border into Canada. They’d be expecting him to go south, and doing what wasn’t expected of him had worked out pretty well in the last few days. He was no longer sure of his ability to hide from SHIELD, but that didn’t mean he’d stop trying.

Thank God it was summer. In India, Bruce had developed a small safety net of places he could hide if he felt like someone was closing in on him, but he had nothing similar set up for Canada. He’d be sleeping rough, and the last thing he needed was to get snowed on. For some reason, the cold seemed to bring the other guy to the forefront a lot faster than the heat.

Romanov probably would have laughed at that and said something about big predators sleeping through the hottest part of the day. She’d kept up a steady stream of that kind of talk on the way to the Helicarrier, her voice low and calm enough that it had been nothing but soothing white noise to Bruce’s frazzled nerves.

She was good at what she did, Bruce couldn’t deny her that. Whether it was sweet-talking a dangerous monster into trusting her or smashing someone’s face in, Romanov got it done.

He missed her, Bruce realized suddenly as he stretched out across the bench that would be his bed for the night. He missed them all, already. It was strange to actually miss someone, since he’d spent a good part of the last few years learning to accept that he was never going to be with the people he loved again. And yet, the Avengers (was that their name? Did they have an actual name?) had still crept in under his shields anyway.

Sneaky bastards.

Bruce closed his eyes and wrapped his jacket more firmly around himself. He wondered how long it would take before he was used to being alone again.

 **2:**  
Hulk did not like the cold. He was unsure of why Banner had gone someplace so cold to hide, but he did not like it at all. He was in no danger of freezing to death (although strange images of blackened fingers and blisters caused by frost filtered up from Banner’s mind, buried deep beneath the Hulk’s), but that did not mean he enjoyed the feeling of snow hitting his skin.

He roared at the small pack of wolves that had startled Banner into releasing him in the first place. They were already fleeing, tails between their legs, and Hulk did not feel like giving chase. They would not taste good, anyway. Predators never did.

Hulk squatted down, rifling through the small store of food that Banner kept. It had been hung up in a tree, to keep the scavengers away, but that was no obstacle for Hulk. The smoked meat had probably been what attracted the wolves. The smell was overpowering, and Hulk smiled. He rarely got to eat when he forced his way out of Banner. He grabbed a leg of what had once been a deer and took a satisfied bite, feeling the bone crunch between his teeth.

Once he had eaten his fill, Hulk considered the small wooden house that Banner had been living in as winter came. Too small. Too small by far. Banner had probably picked it just for that reason. Hulk grimaced in anger. Stupid, small Banner. Everything he did was to keep the Hulk caged and none of it ever worked.

Hulk stood up, considered the huge pine trees towering above him, and then launched himself upwards. He landed atop the tree, holding onto the trunk to keep himself steady. The tree began to bow under his weight, and so he launched himself at another one.

And again.

And again.

It felt good, like stretching after being tied down. He carried on through the treetops, scaring birds and animals alike, until he finally exhausted himself. Hulk let out a satisfied roar and dropped to the ground. In the deep forest, the snow did not fall as hard, blocked by the trees. This would be a good place to bed down. Hulk grabbed one of the smaller pine trees, yanked it out of the ground by the roots, and shook it so that the snow would be gone. Then he settled down in the pine needles, curling in on himself like a bear.

Hulk did not see why Banner hadn’t stayed in the city. It had been warm there, with plenty of things to smash. Better yet, the humans had not tried to kill him for smashing and showing the strange-smelling creatures how puny they were. Things had been better in the city.

Hulk would head there, once he was done sleeping, he decided. Stupid Banner had made enough choices for them.

 **3:**  
Bruce woke up to the feeling of concrete poking him in the back.

Shit. _No._

But there was no denying what his eyes told him. He was asleep in the wreckage of a building, rebar and chunks of brick arranged around him like a nest. The other guy had been out and running until he’d exhausted himself. He tended to bed down somewhere isolated once he was tired, like a predator making a den.

Bruce shook his head and told himself to stop the nature documentary narration of the Hulk’s sleeping habits. Nobody cared to hear about it. Legs shaking like a newborn colt, Bruce pushed himself to his feet. He needed to get out of here. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep and no clue what had triggered the other guy in the first place, but it would have caught the attention of someone. Several someones.

So much for hiding in Guadalajara.

It was morning, the light filtering in through the hole in the ceiling giving Bruce just enough light to see by. He stepped carefully around the bits of jagged metal and exposed wires, since he had no idea how long it had been since he’d last had a tetanus shot. Bruce wondered if untreated tetanus would kill him, if the slow, creeping death of a disease could sneak up on the Hulk the way a bullet couldn’t. That was always an option, he supposed. Just play Russian roulette with dirty needles until he found something that would take them both out permanently.

Bruce stepped out into the bright morning light, his mind occupied with the dueling thoughts of suicide and finding a pair of pants. That was all wiped swiftly away when he found himself staring down the barrels of several dozen guns and what looked like a rocket launcher. The building was surrounded by commandos, all of them armed to the teeth and looking decidedly unfriendly.

One of them stepped forward, his eyes narrowed behind the clear faceplate of his riot mask. “By order of the United States government, you’re under arrest, Banner.”

So not SHIELD, then. Bruce had been hoping…well, never mind what he’d been hoping. SHIELD wasn’t going to get him out of this. He raised his hands above his head and asked, “Ross send you boys?”

“General Ross told me I had his permission to put a bullet between your eyes if you gave us any trouble,” the man responded.

Bruce smiled beatifically, feeling rage crawling up his spine. His muscles began to spasm. “Don’t worry. _I’m_ not gonna give you any trouble.”

 **4** :  
Puny Banner had been dreaming. Explosions, gunfire, helicopters, and blood. And green, everything green. Hulk scoffed at the memory of the nightmare. Banner scared too easy, like a deer. Still, the nightmare had been enough to let Hulk out. He stretched out and roared, pleased at the sound of the jungle going quiet. Animals were scared of Hulk, no matter how big they were.

Banner had kept fleeing south, eventually coming to a huge forest. It was constantly wet, full of dangerous creatures and green plants. Green everywhere. Hulk liked it. He leapt into the canopy of one of the massive trees, startling several monkeys. They took off shrieking into the forest, and Hulk laughed.

Far up in the sky, tiny black dots circled. Hulk narrowed his eyes and roared again. In the terrified silence that followed, he could hear a familiar noise. Helicopters. Banner had probably heard them and that had started his nightmare.

Hmm. Too far to jump. Hulk leapt back to the ground with a crash and squatted down, resting on his knuckles and considering the best way to knock the helicopters from the sky. Throwing a tree might work.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of engines and the smell of burning air, and Hulk squinted up at the sky suspiciously. Something was coming, something even smaller than the helicopters. Not a missile. Red and gold.

Hulk tilted his head. He recognized this flying thing.

The metal man that Banner liked so much hovered above him, probably thinking he was out of Hulk’s reach. “Hulk? Buddy? Remember me?”

Banner liked the metal man, and Hulk liked the metal man too. Metal man had given him the chance to smash many, many things and put a stupid god in his place. He growled out, “Metal man” by way of greeting.

“Yeah, that works. Would it be okay if I land?”

Hulk nodded, and watched as the metal man lowered himself to the ground, the boots of his robot suit glowing slightly before he touched down. He flipped his faceplate up.

“So, uh, nice rainforest, huh?”

Hulk stared at him.

The metal man sighed. “Okay. So, Hulk, do you want to come back to the city with me?”

Hulk tilted his head, curious. This was interesting. He had liked the city. But humans were tricky, and metal man might be tricky too. “Why?”

“We’ve got some stuff that needs smashing.”

Hulk smiled, wide and pleased. He loved smashing.

 **5:**  
When Bruce slept, he always preferred not to dream. Dreams were tricky, complicated things that brought up a thousand emotions better left suppressed. More than once, he’d awoken from a nightmare only to find his skin turning green and his muscles expanding. From one nightmare to another, really.

He was glad he’d managed to force himself awake before the dream got bad enough to trigger a change. He didn’t remember much, just the smell of antiseptic and endless white corridors, but that never boded well for him. Groggy, Bruce rolled into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was surprised when his feet touched plush, thick carpet instead of rough wood or dirt. It took him a moment to remember where he was.

The lights of New York flooding into his room were a reminder, and he walked over to the window to look down at the city. A million people went about their lives underneath him, all of them unaware that someone with a monster inside of him was looking down on them. God, what had Tony been thinking?

Although…well, things had gone pretty good. A lot better than he’d expected, really. Bruce had honestly figured that the other guy had only helped against Loki’s army because there had been so many targets for violence that he didn’t need to bother smashing through buildings and people. Sensory overload could work in his favor, sometimes. But the fight against the strange, cyborg creatures (Tony said they were some lunatic’s lab experiment gone wrong) had taken place in the middle of the woods, and the Hulk had only attacked the enemy.

Bruce leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. This train of thought would lead nowhere good. Tony was a smart guy, but he didn’t understand Bruce’s situation. No one could. The safest thing to do would be to leave tonight, before he had time to get comfortable. It would be easier for everyone that way. Bruce could go back to running, the other Avengers wouldn’t be in danger, and Tony wouldn’t have to feel responsible when the other guy killed someone.

But even as he started shoving his clothes into a duffel bag, Bruce’s mind was occupied with memories. Little things, almost inconsequential, but for someone who didn’t have much contact with people who knew the truth about him…

Natasha shooting him a smile over her shoulder. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Banner.” Thor grinning that million-watt grin and clapping him on the shoulder so hard he nearly fell over. Barton carrying on an animated conversation, mostly with himself, about the possibility of strapping small-scale EMP to an arrow. The Captain sheepishly pulling a naked Bruce out of the crater he’d landed in.

And Tony. Tony had insisted that Bruce follow him up to the lab against Bruce’s protest. Tony had kept Bruce occupied well into the early morning by showing off all the toys his lab had to offer and stuffing Bruce with Chinese takeout. Tony had made Bruce forget, even if just for a little while, about the time bomb he carried inside.

Bruce paused, halfway through stuffing a pair of pants into the bag. This was such a bad idea. This could go wrong in a million different ways, and probably would go wrong at exactly the worst possible time.

Bruce glanced at the window again and considered.

A place he could actually call home. People who actually seemed to like him, even if they were a little afraid of him. Owning more than a pair of jeans, a dirty shirt, and a toothbrush.

He looked at the door, sighed, and put down the duffel bag. He could always leave if he needed to. It wouldn’t hurt to stay just a few more days. It might calm him down a little, not being on the run. He could pretend that things were normal, maybe even see Betty again.

It would just be for a little while.

That settled, Bruce poked his head out the door and went looking for the kitchen. Maybe the robot butler could help him find it.

 **1:**  
Bruce woke up on what had once been a couch. There was shredded leather and stuffing everywhere, and Bruce wondered how the hell the Hulk had ended up in an abandoned building that had expensive furniture in it. Then the sound filtered in, and Bruce realized with a growing sense of horror that he wasn’t alone at all. Oh God, had he been captured? Had he-

“Sleeping Beauty’s awake.” Clint’s voice was not the voice of a man who was terrified, which reassured Bruce that the Hulk hadn’t seen fit to take a hostage. Bruce looked up to find Clint and Steve staring at him, looking amused.

“I thought that was my nickname,” Steve said, peering into the nest of fluff that Bruce was buried under. “Need a hand?”

“Uh, no, I’m okay.” As far as Bruce could tell, the other guy had dragged several couches together, smashed them all into a pleasing shape, and then taken a nap on them. That wasn’t too unusual. The fact that he was in Stark Tower, on the other hand, really was. “What happened?”

“After we finished cleaning up the Skrulls, you followed us back here,” Steve explained. Clint was already headed out the door, probably to bring Bruce some pants. They had taken to stashing pants that fit Bruce in easily accessible locations, like underneath the first aid kit. Someone (Bruce suspected Natasha) had hidden a pair behind a fire extinguisher and written ‘In case of Hulk, break glass.’ Bruce had a feeling it was going to turn into a contest soon; who could hide the pants in the strangest location?

“Was I…”

“You kept jabbing Thor in the head, but he knew you were just trying to pick a fight and ignored it,” Steve said with a shrug. “Anyway, once we got here, you just kind of lumbered in here, made a nest, and fell asleep.”

“Nobody, uh, tried to move me?”

Steve gave him one of those earnest, doubtful looks. “Bruce, I am never, ever going to bother the Hulk if he seems happy with something.”

Bruce couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair enough.”

“Ah, you are awake!” Thor was all smiles and happiness as he walked into the room. “Good! I have made waffles, but was unsure if there were enough to feed the green beast. There should be plenty for you, however.” Then Thor patted him on the head, the way he did when he was feeling especially affectionate towards his mortal friends.

Bruce laughed again, wondering when everyone had lost their mind. When had he lost his? He thought back to a year ago, when he had honestly assumed that it would just be a temporary stay in Stark Tower before he was a fugitive again, alone and afraid.

He wondered why he’d been so willing to accept such a bleak future, way back then.

Bruce smiled up at Thor. “I dunno, big guy, I can put away a lot of waffles.”

“We ought to have enough to make more,” Steve said. “Pepper’s been on Tony about buying real food, instead of martini mix and noodles.”

“Once Clint returns with clothes, hurry to the kitchen,” Thor said, giving Bruce a parting pat on the head. “We are waiting for you.”


End file.
